


Beneath the Surface

by Nehasy



Category: Tenkuu no Escaflowne | The Vision of Escaflowne
Genre: Assassination, Child Soldiers, Explicit Language, Friends to Lovers, M/M, Past Abuse, Pre-Series, Ryuugekitai, Survival
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-12-27
Updated: 2016-12-28
Packaged: 2018-09-12 13:31:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Underage
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,806
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9073993
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nehasy/pseuds/Nehasy
Summary: Dilandau and Gatti are on a mission.  Killing their target was easy.  Getting back in one piece proves to be a little more difficult.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I don't own Vision of Escaflowne or any of the characters. I"m not making any money here so don't sue me.
> 
> This is part of my Dragon in the Ashes universe and takes place before the series. 
> 
> It's the Holidays, I'm in my new Slytherin robes with a glass of wine and a pile of Xmas cookies. Let the alcohol induced sugar laced inspiration commence!

            “That was amazing!”  Dilandau crowed in delight as the two Dragonslayers raced through the narrow canyon, the howls and snarls of a pack of enraged wolf clan warriors echoing after them.  “I’m going to remember the shocked looks on their furry faces for the rest of my life!”   The slender albino was clad from head to foot in dark grey leathers; the style was simple and utilitarian, bearing little resemblance to his usual sleek black and crimson uniform.  Normally beacon bright silvery white hair was covered neatly, as was his face; both bound in a cloth wrap, hiding any identifying features save for the brilliant crimson of his eyes.    The uniform not only leant him anonymity, it allowed him to blend in with the deep shadows of the darkened canyon with ease.

Long legs propelled him forward as he leapt over a fallen boulder, heedless of any hazards which might lie in his path, a brilliant and victorious grin pulling at his hidden lips.  A bloody sword was held firmly in one hand while the other held a thick leather satchel.  Inside the bag was the bloody head of Oogara, a local leader of the Dragonfangs, a rather notorious mercenary pack of beast-men who had been hired by Basram to harry the borders of Egzardia. 

“That’s great sir.”  Gatti gasped, trying to pull enough air into his lungs to keep up with his long legged captain.  “By my estimation, that should only be for about five more minutes… ten tops.”  Though the two were roughly the same height, Gatti was more heavily muscled than his slender captain.  His ash blond hair was already soaked with sweat and his pale grey gaze darted around with every step, wary of possible attacks from the sides.  In his mind, there was no reason for both of them to be reckless as they raced back towards their hidden leviship.  The captain might think of this as nothing more than a little fun, but he knew that if they were caught, being torn limb from limb would be the least of their worries.

His sword was also drawn and wet with blood, neither having had the time to clean them properly, not that they’d be sheathing them anytime soon.  It was a large pack who knew the territory well, not to mention they were likely following the stink of their leaders head, making it impossible to throw them off the trail.  What was worse was the fact that there was no way that two humans, even ones in as exceptional shape as the two Dragonslayers could outrun a pack of enraged Wolfmen.

“Gatti, you need to have a little faith in your fearless leader.  Would I ever put you at risk of horrible bloody death?”  Dilandau glanced over his shoulder at his subordinate, the albino didn’t look worried in the slightest and that terrified Gatti on several levels even as it filled him with elation.

“Every day sir.”  The Dragonslayer shot back, somehow managing a grin of his own.  Damn if his captain’s boundless confidence wasn’t infectious.  He had to admit, albeit reluctantly that he was having the time of his life right now, even if he likely was only a few minutes from bloody death.  Out of all of the Dragonslayers, he’d been the one chosen to accompany Dilandau on this mission.  The jealous glares he’d received from his teammates had warmed him from the inside out; especially the look Miguel had shot him.  The two of them were competing constantly for the title of best swordsman on the team.  It was one of the most coveted titles seeing as how it was Dilandau’s favourite weapon and whoever held the position was guaranteed to be chosen as the captain’s sparring partner. 

Apparently it now also meant joining him on secret missions.  They’d all heard about the increasing hostilities between the two countries and though it hadn’t broken out into a full scale war, there was a rather unhealthy amount of “accidents” taking place along the borders.  The predations of the Dragonfangs were just one example and they alone had razed several small villages to the ground.  Few had escaped the slaughter.

Egzardia had tried to hunt them down but had fallen to the brutal guerilla tactics that the mercenaries were known for.  In desperation, they’d called upon Zaibach who they had several treaties with.  The problem was that they didn’t want Basram to know that they’d called in allies to help them.  One never wanted to appear weak when dealing with an openly aggressive country. 

That meant no guymelefs, keeping their identities hidden and most importantly, getting in and out without being caught.  General Adelphos had felt that a small group would fare better than a large one given these circumstances and he’d chosen Dilandau to be his emissary of death.  It worked out well for all involved seeing as how he’d been looking for a reason to send the young captain into the field. 

Having Dilandau under his command was a two edged sword, while he was an exceptional warrior with a spectacular record for victory, he was by far the most violent and vicious soldier in the entire Copper Army.  Even with the stars in his eyes, Gatti couldn’t deny this.  He’d borne the brunt of his captain’s violent temper often enough and had seen what happened to those who truly upset him.  Even the smallest things could set the pale youth off on a murderous rampage, what was worse was that there was often little to no warning.  The longer he sat idle, the more likely it was that he’d cause a serious incident, costing the lives and health of any soldier who had the misfortune to cross his path. 

The beast-men hadn’t known what they’d gotten themselves into.  One moment they’d been sitting around their campfire, laughing and drinking as they celebrated their latest victory; the slaughter of a rather picturesque border village.  The next thing they knew, flames had surrounded the small clearing, roaring hot and hungry as they licked at the bone dry foliage of the sage brush.  In the resulting chaos, the two Dragonslayers had torn their way towards Oogara, liberating his head from the rest of his body and disposing of several of his close guards before the others had realized what had happened.

The flames had given them a nice head start, allowing them to put a few miles on their pursuers, but that gap was closing quickly.  Worse, they’d been herded into this canyon and Gatti eyed the steep rock walls with growing trepidation.  Still, Dilandau was confident in their chosen path, and no matter how hot headed his captain might be, the Dragonslayer had utter faith in his ability to turn even the worst looking situation into a spectacular win.  It’s what made him one of the most decorated soldiers in the entirety of the Zaibach army at the tender age of fourteen.

“Sir… not that I’m doubting your ability to get us out of this mess, but if you’re going to do something, you should likely do it soon.”  He decided to risk his captain’s ire by making the suggestion, hoping fervently that the other boys plan didn’t involve turning around and fighting the remaining wolf-men.  The odds didn’t look good in that regard.

“You sound almost scared Gatti.”  The pale boy taunted playfully.  “Careful now, your whining is going to lead them right to us.”

“Oh yes, because they’ll hear me over all that damn howling.”  Gatti shot back, flashing his captain a fierce grin to show that he wasn’t afraid.  It was one of the first lessons each Dragonslayer learned when dealing with their leader.  Never show fear.  Even if you were currently pissing your pants in terror, you grinned, you drew your sword and you continued forward without flinching.  To do anything less would be an insult towards their captain… their living breathing god.  “I think the whole damn pack is after us.”  He added, straining to hear the individual voices in the howls over his own heavy breathing.

“Good, my sword is still thirsty for blood!”  Yeah, Dilandau sounded positively thrilled by this prospect.  Who wouldn’t love the idea of twenty to one odds?  Especially in a lovely little box canyon in the middle of a rocky wasteland hundreds of miles from home? 

“Sir, you remember that General Adelphos said that we only needed to get the leader’s head right?  We don’t have to obliterate the entire pack…”  Wisely he let his voice trail off, noticing the warning glare being shot in his direction over the captain’s shoulder.

“I won’t kill all of them.”  The albino assured him in tones that were far too smooth and confident given their current situation.  “But I do intend to trim their numbers a little to teach them a lesson.”  His grin suddenly melted into a faint frown and he quickly scrambled up a large boulder and motioned for Gatti to be still for a moment as he listened intently to the approaching howls.

“The echoes don’t sound right.”  He muttered to himself.  “The damn mutts are circling us.”  Gatti found himself cocking his head to the side and listening intently, hoping to catch the subtleties the other youth had noticed.  The howls bounced off of the rocky walls of the canyon, distorting as they echoed back and forth until they seemed to come from several directions at once.

“If they get ahead of us, we’re screwed.”  Gatti found himself muttering and pulled out his compass, quickly checking to ensure that they were still heading in the right direction for their transport.

“The leviship is that way.”  Dilandau pointed off to the northeast, not bothering with checking any of his tools.  “We’re still on course and the canyon should take us there, it opens up in another mile, but if they get there ahead of us, we might have a problem.”

He’d pointed in the right direction, once again impressing his Dragonslayer with his uncanny sense of direction.

“How do you know that sir?”  He found himself asking, more than a little awed at his leader’s amazing abilities.  At this point, he wouldn’t have been surprised to be told that Dilandau could tell by the way the echoes bounced off the rock walls, or that he could smell the river they’d landed next to.  Instead, those shining crimson eyes glanced down at him, sparkling with amusement.

“I read a map of the area.”  Well, Gatti felt like a fool now.  He could actually feel his cheeks growing red from embarrassment and for a moment forgot to worry about their encroaching death.

Up ahead, the howls seemed to have changed slightly, sounding more victorious than anything and it made the hair stand up on the back of Gatti’s neck.  That couldn’t be good, but what could they be happy about?  They were still too far away to consider their victory a sure thing….  Both zaibach youths realized what had happened at the same moment and shared a matched look of comprehension.

As if to mock them, a thick black cloud of smoke began to rise up over the horizon, roughly northeast of their current position.  It didn’t take the Strategos to figure out what had just been destroyed.

“They ruined the ship.”  Dilandau sounded enraged at this rather than worried, his crimson eyes glittered dangerously even as his grip on his sword tightened ominously.  “They destroyed our damn ship!”  There was no point in mentioning that it wasn’t theirs, it had been loaned to them by the Egzardian army since they couldn’t bring their guymelefs, something which Gatti was now immensely grateful about.  He also knew better than to bring up the fact that the ships pilot had likely also been murdered.  The captain simply wouldn’t care about the loss of life, especially when he’d actually taken the time to warn the man that he should lift off until receiving a signal that the job was done.  Staying on the ground was simply too risky.  It seemed that the pilot hadn’t taken the warning to heart and had now paid for it with his life.  Stupid Egzardian.

“I don’t suppose you saw any other escape routes when you were looking at that map sir?”  It was a risky move, being cheeky when the captain was so visibly upset.  Still, if he could jolt his attention away from the plans for bloody revenge he was inevitably nurturing, the chances of dying in an overmatched swordfight lessened dramatically.

“I can get us out of the canyon but the problem is staying ahead of those damn wolves.  You won’t be able to keep up the sustained pace necessary to get us back into friendly territory.”  There wasn’t any spite in the captain’s words.  He was simply stating a fact and Gatti bit back a sigh.  He couldn’t even argue with Dilandau’s ego, he knew damn well that the albino could and would run until his heart exploded in his chest if he felt that he had to.  The Dragonslayers had all seen the youth push himself well past any limits of human endurance enough times to not dare to doubt his claims.  If Dilandau said he could accomplish the impossible, they simply accepted it as fact.

“How well can you climb?”  The grin Dilandau flashed him made his pulse race.  It was full of gleeful challenge, the sort of look the captain sported when he was about to do something as reckless as it was exciting.  Logically, Gatti knew that he should want no part in whatever suicidal plan the other boy had up his sleeve, but there was no denying Dilandau.  The Dragonslayers would all gleefully walk through fire for him, and had done so on many occasions.  Gatti was no exception.

“Not well sir.” 

“It’s simple enough.  Put your hands and feet where I do.”  There was so much confidence in Dilandau’s eyes, as if the very idea of Gatti falling hadn’t even crossed his mind and the brunette couldn’t help but feel a flush of pride as the amount of faith being put in him.  His fear faded as he basked in that glorious warmth, realizing that no, he wouldn’t fall, it was impossible for him to fail because Dilandau believed in him.  Reality itself couldn’t stand up to that unshakable trust.

As Gatti basked in his sudden courage, Dilandau reached into the satchel strapped to his back and pulled out a generously sized vial of yellow liquid and his grin took on a rather malicious edge.

“Try not to breathe for a few seconds.”  He warned before taking a deep breath and removing the stopper.  Obedience had been well trained into the Dragonslayer and he dutifully held his breath.  Even without drawing air into his lungs, he could actually taste the foul stench that emanated from the vial and it grew exponentially worse as the captain began to sprinkle it around on the ground at their feet.  All he could do was watch and dread the growing ache in his lungs as the surrounding area got a similar treatment before Dilandau silently motioned that they head towards the canyon wall.

Eager to obey and get away from whatever it was that now saturated the very air around them, Gatti raced towards the nearly sheer cliff which rose up nearly twenty meits above their heads.  Following close behind, Dilandau continued to spray the area with the vile substance and even coated the lower area of the cliff they were about to climb before throwing the vial and its contents across the canyon as far away from them as he could.

Still without taking a breath, the albino took a moment to study the stony walls rising up above them, marking out the path he wanted to take.  Gatti had no idea what he was looking for.  As far as he was concerned, the damn thing was sheer, and it was certainly high enough to kill them should they slip.

Taking a moment to wipe his sword clean on the leg of his uniform before sheathing the weapon, Dilandau leaped at the wall.  The slender albino somehow caught his hand on a small outcropping of rock barely wider than the width of his thumb and began hauling himself up off of the ground.  The level of strength required for this feat was practically superhuman and Gatti swallowed despite himself, his heart thudding painfully in his chest as he realized that he was going to be expected to achieve this as well.

Well, he certainly couldn’t do it while holding onto his sword, so with a soft grunt of annoyance, he followed his leader’s example and gave his sword a quick wipe before sliding it silently into his sheathe.  The instant he got back to base camp, he was going to pamper the poor blade with the best oil he could find as an apology for the shoddy treatment. 

_Your sword is your life._ Dilandau would endlessly drill into them during their daily training exercises.  _Your life depends on the quality of your blade.  If you don’t take care of it, it will fail you.  When that happens, you die._ The captain was always adamant about the upkeep of their weapons and woe to the Dragonslayer who failed to pass muster.

Dilandau crawled up the cliff face with the ease of a spider, finding nearly invisible hand and footholds on its surface.  At times, he had to contort his body rather impressively, but he always moved upwards at a steady pace.

Dutifully, Gatti followed him, holding his breath for as long as he could before his screaming lungs demanded air.  He gasped loudly as precious oxygen filled his lungs… accompanied by the most vile stench he’d ever had the misfortune to witness.  It was worse than cleaning the Vione’s sewage tanks during the height of summer and he very nearly fell from the wall as his stomach threatened to empty its contents.  Worse, he could feel his muscles threatening to cramp the more heavily he gasped.

“Try not to breathe too deeply, that’s ruby snake venom mixed with a few rather nasty additives.  It’s toxic if you get too much into your system.”  Dilandau warned from up above, sounding more amused than anything.  “If they’re lucky, they’ll just spend the next few hours vomiting.  Any wolf who gets a nose full of that crap though will have their muscles tear themselves apart and their sinuses liquefy.”  Suddenly breathing didn’t sound like such a good thing.  “It’s absolutely agonizing.”  The captain continued in a rather wistful tone of voice.  “Too bad we won’t be able to watch.”

Again, Gatti declined from commenting though privately, he was more than a little relived to be able to avoid having to witness something so horrific.  Sure, these beast-men were the worst sort of animals, but this was rather excessive, even for someone like Dilandau.  Worse was the knowledge that he’d brought the vial of that damned substance with the intent to use it… and where the hell had he gotten something like that?  Gatti had been the one to requisition their equipment from the quartermaster and a vial of horrifying death certainly hadn’t been on the list!

Though he desperately wanted some answers, he didn’t dare ask for them.  Right now, his breath was needed to keep his muscles working at maximum efficiency and they couldn’t risk any noise.  Those horrible howls were drawing closer with every passing moment and he knew that within minutes, the ground would be crawling with angry wolf-men.

His arms ached horribly and he knew that the tips of his fingers were bloody.  It made his grip treacherous but he didn’t dare complain.  Instead, he grit his teeth and continued to climb, inwardly repeating that he could do this.  His captain believed in him and that meant that failure wasn’t an option.


	2. Rules? What Rules?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't own Vision of Escaflowne or any characters. I work for kudos, not money

                He was almost at the top when the screaming began.  The howls had been growing steadily louder for the last few minutes, goading the two teenagers to climb as fast as they could despite the growing danger of falling to their deaths.  Gatti was gritting his teeth so tightly that he was sure he’d heard a tooth crack and his fingers were slick with both blood and sweat, making his grip tenuous at best.  Still, he refused to fall behind.  Dilandau was up above, still moving smoothly from one handhold to the next and likely not breaking a sweat at all.  There was no way he was going to disappoint his captain.

                It was hard to not look down as the howls reached the base of the cliff and he knew that any minute now, arrows would be raining down on them.  Inwardly, he braced himself for the inevitable pain, but that in no way prepared him for the horrible sounds which tore themselves from the throats of the wolf-men.

                At first the howls sounded pained and confused, then they turned to wet gurgling shrieks as the first trackers filled their lungs with the toxic chemicals Dilandau had coated the canyon floor with.  Panicked shouts followed as those lucky beastmen who hadn’t been tracking by scent tried to pull their comrades away.

                Gatti had seen and heard a lot of horrible things since graduating the academy and joining the ranks of the Dragonslayers, but nothing could have prepared himself for those sounds.  They tore at his soul even as he forced himself to pay attention to where he was putting his hands rather than what he was hearing.  The worst part was knowing that these creatures were little better than animals.  They didn’t have a human’s comprehension of what was happening to them and why.  It had to be horrible to have your friends and family suddenly start dying around you and not know why.  Still, if he had to choose between them and his captain, he’d choose the damn dogs every time.   

                A strong pale hand grabbed onto his arm just below the wrist and Gatti bit back a startled yelp, his gaze shooting up and meeting smoldering crimson eyes.  He’d reached the top and been so preoccupied with the suffering down below that he’d not noticed.

                “Come on, before one of them thinks to look up.”  Dilandau murmured softly, sparing a moment to glance over Gatti’s shoulder at the carnage taking place on the ground beneath them.  Gatti had no idea what he saw, but the other boys eyes lit up with savage delight, warning the dragonslayer that he likely didn’t want to see the results of the poison.

                Taking his captains hand, he let himself be hauled over the edge and spent several moments just panting, trying to draw in deep lungful’s of air.  His limbs felt leaden and his head was spinning from the prolonged climb.   Normally he’d have been hyper aware of any movement Dilandau made around him, both as a survival mechanism and because the albino was no small source of obsession for him.  Instead, he found himself surprised when he heard the soft splash of liquid and ice cold acid ate its way into his hands.

                As he drew in breath to scream, a strong hand clamped down over his mouth and those beautiful crimson eyes were suddenly less than an inch away from his own.  Cold and hard as steel, they bore into his own, demanding utter obedience no matter the cost and Gatti could feel his will bow beneath their power.

                “It’s just water.”  Dilandau murmured softly.  “Your fingers are bleeding badly from the climb.  I’m going to bandage them up, but first I had to clean them.  I’m going to take my hand away now.  If you scream, I’ll kick you over the edge myself.  Understood?”  There was no sense of bluff behind the words and Gatti had no reason to believe otherwise.  Wordlessly, he nodded his head, not wanting his own screams to join those echoing up from the canyon.

                Taking him at his word, Dilandau removed his hand and then reached into the sack carrying the severed head and pulled out a small medical kit.  With brisk efficiency, he began to quickly bandage the dragonslayers fingers, keeping them thick enough to absorb the blood but thin enough not to interfere with the holding of a sword.

                Only now that he was seeing the bloodied and raw skin of his hands did Gatti truly begin to acknowledge the pain he was in.  It felt as if his hands were on fire!  He’d been so focussed on climbing that he’d utterly ignored the fact that he was tearing himself apart on the rocks!

                “We’ll keep these bandaged for now but I’m going to look around for some plants to make a poultice as we move.”  Dilandau murmured in a low voice as he completed the wrapping.  “Let me know if you start feeling feverish or if your hands start hurting more than they do already.  Don’t worry about looking weak, I’d rather tend to your injuries than have you sick from infection.  Understood?”  Gatti barely heard him over those dreadful howls.  They sounded so wet, as if those screaming were melting from the inside out.  Closing his eyes, he tried to block it out but that only made him envision their fate all the more clearly.

                “Gatti!”  A sharp slap across his face jolted him out of the waking nightmare, drawing his attention back to his captain.  “Stay with me soldier.”  The fierce albino growled.  “Only weaklings sympathise with the enemy.  The weak are useless and we don’t tolerate useless things.”  Gatti found himself repeating the well-known mantra along with his captain.  All the Dragonslayers had heard variations of it at least once a day and he drew strength from it.

                Dilandau was right.  He wasn’t weak.  He had just climbed a sheer cliff without ropes or hooks.  They’d survived this far because they were strong.  Those who were dying below were the weak ones, relying so heavily on a single sense that they’d allowed themselves to be destroyed by it.  He was a Dragonslayer dammit, an elite warrior of Zaibach, chosen personally by Captain Dilandau Albatou and he was going to survive this mission because his captain believed that he could.  He’d never failed his beloved captain yet, nor did he intend to now!

                Buoyed by this, he flashed his leader a fierce grin and nodded his head.  His jaw ached fiercely now and his head rang from the blow, but he’d suffered far worse at the captains hands.  The pain was simply a reminder to stay focussed and wary.  Together, they stayed low and moved away from the cliff edge, their senses alert for any warning that a scouting party might be nearby.  Neither boy was foolish enough to believe that there were only two groups of the pack.

                “Do you have any more of that poison?”  He found himself asking his captain, taking care to keep his voice low as they carefully moved aside branches from their path.  Both were careful to keep the foliage from catching on their clothes and leaving an obvious trail for their pursuers to follow.

                “One more vial, but I’d rather not use it until I have to.”  Dilandau replied, glancing around the green labyrinth they seemed to have found themselves in.  “It’s rather potent and I don’t want us getting caught in it.”

                “Don’t’ suppose you’re going to tell me where you got your hands on that?”

                “I made it.  Bits and pieces from Dallet’s secret garden that I’m not supposed to know about, and some chemicals Folken didn’t have locked up in any serious manner.”  Gatti stumbled and nearly fell flat on his face at how matter of fact the captain was with the explanation.

                “But… you were banned from the labs… all of them three months ago!”  That earned him a cool glance over the captain’s shoulder and Gatti could almost hear Dilandau ask why anyone would think that something like that should stop him.  Banning the captain from something was usually seen as a new challenge to overcome, much to the dismay of the Strategos.  This was something Gatti was all too familiar with, seeing as how he often played messenger between Lord Dilandau and Lord Folken when the two were butting heads.

                “Were we or were we not authorised to take what equipment we felt we required for the mission?”  The albino reasoned, sounding as if this was a perfectly logical answer.  Seeing where this was going, all Gatti could do was sigh softly.

                “You realize sir that Lord Folken didn’t mean to break into the labs and create some sort of hell poison to use.”

                “He didn’t expressly tell me not to make some sort of hell poison as you put it.  Next time he’ll be more careful with his instructions.”  At times, Gatti wondered how exactly Dilandau had ever made it through the Academy.  Most likely, the instructors had been far too intimidated to kick him out.

                “How long have you known about Dallet’s garden, sir?”  It was one of the more closely guarded secrets amongst the Dragonslayers and if Gatti found out that one of them had ratted on their friend to the captain, he was going to make them pay dearly.   While Gatti took his job as second in command very seriously and was a stickler for the rules, even he realized that the men all needed something to separate themselves from the brewing war.  They all found little ways to express themselves and so long as it didn’t interfere with their duties or break any overt rules, Gatti was willing to turn a blind eye to them.

                “I’ve known for a month now.”  Dilandau admitted, sounding almost amused.  “It’s rather impressive considering what he has to work with.  His roses look beautiful.”

                “Sir… if you don’t mind me asking, why didn’t you stop him?”

                “Why didn’t you if you knew about it?”  He always hated it when his own questions were turned back on him, especially when they were perfectly valid.  There was the unsettling sense that this question was in fact some sort of little test of the captain’s and it worried Gatti that he might answer wrong and earn himself another slap.

                “He wasn’t breaking any actual rules of ship conduct.”  The second in command answered cautiously.  “I kept track of when he would go and tend it, making sure that he only used his free time and didn’t break curfew at all.  Seeing as how several of his plants sprouted fresh vegetables that he shared with the team, I felt that it would help morale to let him keep it.”

                “Did you take into account the fact that our water is strictly rationed?”  Again, the captain glanced over his shoulder at his subordinate and Gatti felt a cold tremble of dread race through him.  No, he hadn’t thought about their limited resources, a rather stupid move in hindsight.  “Folken was having Engineer Ransom looking into it.  He mentioned it to me one night, figuring that I might be indulging in a few too many baths.”

                Gatti grit his teeth and held back any comments regarding Engineer Ransom, one of their captain’s occasional paramours.  While he had to admit that the man was rather brilliant and not hard on the eyes at all if one liked the rough and tumble type… which the captain apparently did; he couldn’t stomach the idea of his idol being intimate with anyone outside of their tightly knit team.  It just seemed so wrong.

                “I convinced him to let me look into it instead and traced down the source of the shortage.  It was a rather impressive system that he’d set up and had his name written all over it.”  As he spoke, Gatti found himself trying to remember if at any time during the past month Dallet had shown up with excessive bruising after a meeting with the captain.  As far as he knew, the other Slayer had only sported the usual amount of injuries expected from their brutal training regimes and hot tempered captain.

                “So… you didn’t punish him?”

                “Why would I? It was rather ingenious.  I made him explain it all to me in detail, got him to set aside some space for plants of my own that he would tend to and warned him to keep close eye on the water he was using.”

                “Didn’t your personal showers stop working a month ago?”  The Dragonslayer hazarded cautiously, his quick mind suddenly drawing conclusions to one of the many mysteries that the team gossiped about in regards to their captain.  For weeks now, the captain’s washing facilities had been undergoing renovations, forcing him to use the teams shower with the rest of them.  Aside from a little grumbling on his part, Dilandau had been surprisingly patient considering how long it was taking the repair crew to work.

                “There’s no work being done on them is there?”

                “Of course there is.”  Dilandau argued pleasantly.  “They’re horribly slow though and considering our limited resources I doubt they’ll ever be finished.  Lazy bastards.”

                “I never saw a work request sir.”

                “You’re a lazy bastard too.  As my second in command, you should be fully aware of my needs at all times.  I can’t believe you lost my work request. No wonder it’s taking so long.”  For a moment Gatti knew only blind panic as he mentally scrambled to remember a work request that never existed.  The instant he realized his folly, he could have kicked himself.  In his defense, this was one of the few times he’d ever heard anything remotely like a joke cross the captain’s lips.  The albino teenager might have raised sarcasm to the level of an art form, but actual jokes seemed to vex him.  He almost never understood their purpose and rarely attempted one himself.

                “It won’t happen again sir.”  He replied promptly, earning himself a faint smile from Dilandau.

                “Good, see that it doesn’t.  Oh, and Gatti, one more thing.  Duck.”  Again, it was the mindless obedience that saved his life as Dilandau pulled a knife from his boot and threw it all in the space of an eye blink.  The Dragonslayer dropped to the ground instantly, barely even registering the deadly blade flashing by over his head or hearing the meaty thunk of it embedding itself deeply into flesh.  In one smooth motion, Gatti had his sword drawn and was lunging forward at a shadowy shape moving behind the thick screen of leaves while to his side, Dilandau was already slicing into a second enemy.  The first wolf-man hadn’t even hit the ground yet and the two youths were already engaged in battle for their lives.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Awwww, Dilandau likes the roses. Convenient that Dallet grows them so their captain has something to use at their memorial. Personally, I think it's sweet for Dilandau to give up his nice hot baths so that Dallet can grow them... and the odd poison plant. I see the captain as being indulgent, but far more practical in the end. He loves his baths, but loves having lethal toys more... also the fact that it puts Dallet under his thumb works well too. I picture Dilandau as being a very straightforward guy on the surface, but still being a manipulative little prick whenever he can get away with it.

**Author's Note:**

> I enjoy wondering what the Dragonslayers were like and how they interacted with their captain and the people around them. Seriously, these were fourteen year old kids who were an an elite military unit. They had to have gotten into some pretty hairy stuff before the war to get them to the point that they were perfectly fine with mass slaughter. Having a charismatic captain is one thing, but I always wonder at what other events inspired them.


End file.
